


Deals

by ShamelessSterekObsession



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamelessSterekObsession/pseuds/ShamelessSterekObsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a successful music producer and talent scout that may have lost his way. Stiles is an aspiring musician with actual potential that he can't see in himself. Fate, aka Laura and Lydia, will bring them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on a different account but I had to delete that account.

     Derek Hale sulks onto a leather stool with a nod to the bartender. The bartender holds up his finger to signal he needs a moment to finish his current orders. A growl comes from Derek in acknowledgement and he turns back, facing the dimly lit stage. Busying himself with checking out tonight’s crowd, mostly tourists and middle-aged couples. Pretty sad gathering nowadays considering how the place use to be packed with young twenty-somethings, all coming together to drink and listen to some real music, but hey, that was a thirty less dining tables and lifetime ago. Derek isn’t suggesting the place took a dive, just sort of sold out. If the revenue reports Laura sends him every month are anything to go off of, this place has actually doubled its profit since then. Still, Derek feels what it made up for in business, it lost in spirit.

    Over the speakers he can hear the shuffling of equipment and the demands of a woman, for what can only be the security, to kindly escort a certain narcissistic soloist through the backstage doors and into the back alley before she rips their vocal cords out. Derek cannot help but laugh a little to himself.  Lydia, the new stage manager,  is some kind of prodigy to his older sister Laura, sass and power included. It seems as though someone has alerted her that her mic is switched on and after a couple of curse words the sound cuts out. The stage lights up and reveals a girl that has too much makeup on and a plastered smile standing with a guitar strapped over her shoulder. She begins strumming a couple simple chords and sings an over-rehearsed version of Your Song by Elton John. Some might praise her for the unique sound but Derek has heard this adaptation time and time again. It was amazing when he first heard it from Ellie Goulding, part of the reason he signed her. That was years ago though and hearing it from this beauty pageant queen alternative-wannabe was torture to his ears. It is acts like this that makes him question his decision to make weekly appearances at this particular venue.

     Sure, it is the same place he began his successful career, gave him a kick-start into scouting talent. Back when he was this venue’s original stage manager as well as a part owner, he spent five nights a week arranging show line-ups, auditioning new acts and advising the artists with upcoming performances. This place was apart of one of the most enjoyable times of his life. He was allowed to have one-on-one sessions with great talent. Music was daily life and the atmosphere was so promising. It just so happen that this promise caught the eye of one of the biggest record labels around.

     First they approached the acts he had helped create. The artists naturally jumped full force into record deals, against Derek’s warnings to be careful and think it all through, believing they finally got their big break. They signed whatever contract was thrown in front of them. Unfortunately many lost their contracts because of falling behind or straight giving up, losing that spark. The music industry was just too demanding. A few music rights were withheld and a bad reputation for the label spread over the highly publicized lawsuits that were filed. Derek was cornered as a last ditch effort to save the remaining artists and given a proposal; no more artists would be pressured as long as he stayed on as a talent scout for the label. In addition, any acts signed by Derek was to be given a special contract that he approved of. He was able to have full reign over their handling. This gave his talents the freedom to produce what they wanted instead of the research department handing the talents finely tuned money-making lyric sheets and forcing them to squawk like parrots. He would also be allowed to encourage their individuality, a tactic the label doubted would go over well. Yet, he was allowed to do exactly that. Besides the bizarreness of the proposition, Derek saw it as a way to protect the people he had faith in and accepted the offer.

     Now he is considered a music industry prophet, finding basically half the top charting artists of today. He is prized in the lights of the media for ‘not molding money-makers but carving out paths for unique artists and contributing to timeless music,’ but that was only the words of a Rolling Stones Magazine journalist. At first Derek felt out of his league but then something just clicked. Derek is able to see the type of name each act could make for themselves. Through this he looks for holes in current music and search through act after act to find someone with the potential to fill the position needed. So far he had a hundred percent accuracy rating and has been unstoppable for six years.

     On paper everything seems great, with all the success and even glory, but Derek only wished to support the music not have controlled hand on it. He understands the industry cannot run off passion and creativity alone but he despises all the image projections and research groups and conformity that happens behind the scenes. Although his acts are safe from this side of the industry, he can see the effect it has on the music as a whole.

     A good example is this very venue. Once the sight of hidden stardom, now a launch pad for fame hungry wannabes such as the current performer. Performers desperate enough to emulate already legendary artists. Derek sees right through them and knows the false front for what it is. Sometimes he goes backstage and gives the plastic copies a piece of his mind and, in a moment of compassion, some advice. So why put up with the vain primadonnas every Thursday? Derek didn’t really know anymore.

     There was Isaac Lahey, his business contact (and coincidentally the bartender here) that helps him stay in touch with the local underground music realm.

     Becoming a well known scout and producer makes it difficult to go to small venues without being flocked with performers demanding auditions and flirting shamelessly, to lure him in. Derek, of course, detests this part of finding a new place and he holds off on visits unless Isaac assures him the talent is worth the effort. Here, at The Beacon In Hollywood Hills, the performers sign a waiver to not pester Derek. Laura saw to this in hopes to keep Derek around after he joined the record label. He supposes he comes just to please her but in truth he just cannot let go of the possibility.

     The possibility of giving up on this venue and missing out on some actual talent. The suspense on that one act coming through and finding a spot where they belong in his collection of influential stars. Someone whose name could one day be among the greats like Michael Jackson or Freddie Mercury and known as a boundary breaker, shape music as an individual.

     But as time goes on his patience wears thin. Right now, Derek could really use a drink. As if on cue Isaac sets down a glass of whiskey in front of him.

     “I wish your sister would let me get drunk on the job, then I wouldn’t want to shoot myself over having to listen to this shit.” Derek gives an ‘Amen’ as he gulps back the glass and slams it back onto the counter. Tapping the glass for a suggested refill. “You know your sister ordered me to not get you smashed anymore, right?” Isaac none the less fills the glass back up.

     “Any news?” Derek asks, ignoring Laura’s attempt to control his life like older sisters tend to do.

     “Well there are a couple of coffee shops with open mic nights that have some older crowds you might like. At least you’ll fit in.” Derek inserts a sarcastic ‘Ha Ha’ and takes a swig of whiskey. “No really they have some older performers and I know they aren’t big leagues material but they put on a great show. I’ll text you the addresses and times. Oh and there is this new place opening in Venice Beach which is in a cool spot. They say they are letting anyone sign up so at least there will be variety. Maybe some of the buskers will stumble on in from the boardwalk and play. Besides that I haven’t got anything new persae.” Derek slouches over with a sigh. He hates when Isaac doesn’t have anything of real promise for him. It has been a while since someone has surprised him and he is growing restless.

     The girl onstage finishes her set and thanks the audience, quickly exiting the stage. As if deja vu, a blonde with a plastered smile walks out on stage and begins an acoustic guitar version of Creep by Radiohead, not quite hitting the high notes and off key to the point of driving Derek crazy. As if this night could get any worse.

     Derek is startled by a scuff beside him. He looks over to see this guy, sitting five stools down, roll his eyes at the performance and mutter ‘You gotta be kidding me’ loud enough to make the tables near him turn and give him the stink eye. He blushes at the sudden attention and turns away to the bar. He seems like he is regretful of letting that slip, which is absurd because the girl is lucky Derek doesn’t have a rotten tomato with him. But suddenly Derek doesn’t really care about the cat meowing on stage. Instead he is completely stuck on the beautiful boy sitting by him. Of course he is not really a boy but a man, considering the liquor he is nervously sipping at. None the less he is beautiful. He has an upturn nose and moles scattering his pale skin. His hair is practically shaved off, slouching over even more than Derek and constantly twitching. Moving his thin bony fingers over the rim of his wine glass. (Which, what young adult casually drinks wine at a bar? Although, Derek does know Laura and Isaac work together to make sure the bar has the finest liquor and even wine from around the world. This of course is a marketing tool Lydia suggested in order to make the place seem more classy.) His fingers look as though they move with purpose. All at once Derek hears the way this stranger is vibrating the glass so that the ringing noise is in tune with the beat of the song. The beauty of it is overwhelming and Derek is taken by surprise by the control and flow of it, like the ringing is a backup vocalist on the track.. That’s when the performer onstage lets her voice go too far and cracks. The guy flinches at this,  opens his eyes as if snapping out of a trance. Derek kinda goes ‘Oh well shit-fuck’ in his head as he definitely sorta fell for a stranger in a matter of seconds.

     He jerks upright as he hears the crack of a towel near his ear. Isaac’s way of letting Derek know he is staring and it is infact very obvious. Derek ducks his head to hide his blush. When he gathers the courage to sneak a peek at the stranger he catches the auburn eyes intently looking him up and down. He looks away but keeps the stranger in his peripheral vision. The guy sits up straight, eyes still on him, shoots back his wine, getting off his seat and walks to the stool next to Derek.

     “Mind if I pop a squat?” Derek only thinks to shrug and the stranger sits facing the stage leaning back with his elbows propped up on the bar. “Come here often?” The stranger asks.

     “Unfortunately.” Derek answers just as the girl on stage tries to do this odd sultry thing with her voice but instead sounds like she has to take a shit. “You do?” The guy perks up a little and whatever cool facade he was putting on quickly fades. “That’s actually good. Cause I was trying to get an opinion, on like this place. You see my friend works here and she said she could get my band a gig and I was here to see if it is a good scene for us. Well I guess I should say Sean’s band, since he makes it clear he is in charge, even tried to name us the Sean Bean band. Luckily the other guys were against it as well. I don’t think I could suffer the embarrassment. But then again Slow Kids At Play isn’t much better but the guys are convinced it’s gonna be some kind of hit. I think it makes us seem like a joke and it’s a bit offensive. But hey, just the drummer, so whatever.” Derek is staring at the kid. Cause that’s what he seems like with all the rambling and losing his breath. Like a hyperactive kid. Derek is only more drawn in though. He is careful to keep a blank face and also tries to not be hurt that this guy might know who he is and is trying to use him for his connections. He decides to keep it relaxed. “What type of music does your band perform?”

     The guy seems to be on the verge of saying something but then stops and looks puzzled. “I guess you could say we are reggae but like we do covers and other stuff and a bit punk and fast paced. Like shouting punk but with like reggae beats. We have a couple acoustic songs but the guys don’t always want to perform them. But when we do it means I get to play the guitar, which well we don’t really play those songs a lot so it doesn’t really matter.” The guy gives Derek a nervous side glance. Derek decides he should give the guy a break and be upfront about his understanding of this place, after all who would know this place better but him.

     “I’d say this venue is open to whatever is out there but at the same time it’s a sit down sorta deal. It’s a restaurant slash bar most of the time. People come to eat, drink and listen to good music, not dance. At least not anymore. The fast pace might not be this crowds aptitude. Open mic nights like tonight and tomorrow night invites all types though. But the performance nights on Saturdays, Sundays and Wednesdays probably aren’t the best spots for a loud band to perform.” The guy seemed to be hanging on to every word Derek was saying and in the end was visibly put out.

     “Thanks, that’s all I wanted to know really. Lydia was pretty adamant that we should perform here. I mean not us as in the band. She actually wanted me to perform but like Ha! that ain’t happenin. I am not that kinda performer. I’d be too nervous without the guys anyways. Plus I am apart of a band it’d be like rude right? and like I am not even that good so she must be trippin. I mean I know she is just being nice. Which is rare. Lydia isn’t just nice to any given person, trust me.” Derek is actually well aware that Lydia seldomly is kind to others, but he hesitates to say so. “I think you’re right though. Not really the place for a band like ours, but the guys already know and I bet they will want to do it even if I tell them this isn’t the venue for us.” The guy sighs and looks over at Derek.

     “Oh god, sorry totally overloading you with information right now. My bad. I was trying to come over and talk to a smoking hot stranger but instead I fricken talked about myself and look here, big shocker, I am still talking.” The guy bites his lower lips and bows his head like he failed some kind of test. Meanwhile Derek is just hoping he didn’t notice him blushing after being called ‘smoking hot.’

     “It’s fine.” Derek offers the dejected kid. The guy looks over at Derek with a wary side-eye.

     “Oh… Well if I didn’t say it before I’m Stiles.” Stiles offers a hand but ends up knocking Derek’s glass over the bar counter, on to the floor, where it crashes with a loud shatter. Isaac gives Stiles a ‘What the Fuck?’ look and bends over to clean up the mess. “Oh lord! Sorry, sorry. I.. I… well fuck.”  Stiles is definitely flustered, then he sort of freezes and looks Derek in the eyes. “Um, it was nice to meet you and uh thanks for the uh... words of wisdom?” He then throws a twenty onto the counter and beelines to the exit. Derek is at a loss of words. He wants to laugh and if he is being honest, cry. What just happened is comical but the stranger, now named Stiles (Which what kind of name is Stiles?), left Derek at the bar. He curses himself for not saying anything as the guy left. He could have seemed more interested. Maybe this ‘Stiles’ would have stayed.

     At the same time, Derek reviews the meeting in his head and cannot help but sense that Stiles knew exactly who he was. I mean he is supposedly friends with Lydia, close enough that Lydia would actually go out of her way to do something nice for him. But being friends with Lydia means there is almost no way Stiles wasn’t aware of who he is. And how Stiles seemed so nervous in his presence was something Derek has seen many aspiring artist do around him. Scared they might say something or do something (like knock over his drink) to screw up their chance to make a good impression on Derek. But then again, it was like Stiles had no filter and said what ever came to mind, which is odd because when people want something out of Derek they are very careful and calculated about what they say. Derek is extremely confused and right now he is finally feeling a little buzzed from the whiskey. Feeling a ‘little buzzed’ is not what he wants at this point. More like ‘totally smashed.’ Isaac could help out... possibly.

 


	2. The Sweet Spot

     Derek parks his black Camaro behind The Beacon. Laura woke him up at the crack of dawn and called him in. Which is odd because Derek doesn’t even work for here anymore, it has been like six years. Being called in by her is not that unusual all the same.

     Laura will never admit it but she is lost without him. They have always been dependent on each other after losing their parents when Derek was sixteen. Well, Uncle Peter did take care of sheltering and schooling them, and handling all the financial needs, so their dependency was more emotionally. Laura can get a little scrambled and Derek has always been able to level her, make her see a way to make things right again. And Derek can get caught up in routines, Laura is able to snap him out of them. One way of accomplishing this is with her world famous interventions. She literally makes everyone in Derek’s life gather and tell him what he is doing wrong and how that is why he is unhappy. She once had about his  obsessive workout routine. She may have gone overboard with that one, then again, maybe spending something like thirty hours a week at the gym was a problem. Never been in better shape physically but as for what was going on in his head, well he was drowning. That all happened after the whole ordeal with Kate went down. Derek would end the person that let Laura know just how much he loves her confrontations. They always mark a milestone in Derek’s life and ultimately bring a lot of positive to his life in the aftermath.

     Derek walks through the propped open backstage doors. Audio equipment liters every nook and cranny in the green room. He can hear the orders Lydia is barking across the stage, although he cannot see her. He makes an attempt on making out what those orders were for when, abruptly, there is a loud bang and a painful whimper. Then Lydia yells into a mic ‘Stiles.’

     Derek most certainly does not pep up at Stiles’ name being said. It’s not as though Derek has constantly been thinking about the boy from two nights ago and had to refrain from jerking off, for fear of naughty thoughts like counting the moles on Stiles’ back while pounding his as… Yeah Derek has been popping boners as often as he did when puberty hit.

     He tries to clear all thoughts of Stiles and will the blood out of his no-no area when he hears vaguely familiar stream of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ come from the storage room. Derek is not prepared for what he sees when he enters the doorway.

     Stiles is squatting with his back facing the door, where Derek is standing, trying to yank an amp out from under a tower of boxes. Disaster ensues. His tactic to remove items explains all the noise but Derek is a little distracted by the fact that Stiles’ pants have fallen halfway down his ass revealing Calvin Klein briefs and, in the attempt to pull out the amp, is being thrust backwards in the air for leverage. Derek is at loss for what to do in this situation. He is effectively turned on and is pretty sure he is glaring at Stiles for what he is unknowingly doing to him. He is about to make a run for it when he notices all the boxes on top of the amp falling forward over Stiles and he reacts. His reaction consists of coming up behind Stiles throwing his hands over the back of his head and use his body as a barrier against the boxes. Coincidentally this has him plastered to Stiles backside. After all the boxes have fallen, Derek is a little dizzy. One of the boxes must have been heavy enough to hit his head so hard it knocked it into the back of Stiles’ head. The outcome has Stiles and Derek on their sides with Derek cradling Stiles in a fetal position, on the verge of blacking out. Suddenly Derek is struggling to keep his eyes open and loses.

     When he blinks open his eyes, it’s too Stiles saying ‘Oh thank god!’ and grabbing the sides of Derek’s face. “What the hell dude! Why the hell did you tackle me?” Stiles asked.

     “I saw the boxes.. they were gonna fall…” Derek tries to sit up but Stiles pushes him back down saying he could have a concussion. “So what you decided to throw your body over me like a shield?” Stiles questions in amazement. Derek nods. “That’s very Captain America of you.”

     “Always been more of an Iron Man kinda guy.” Derek says.

     “Good, jokes are good. At least you can remember what your favorite Avenger is, now let’s try your name.” Stiles is still looking Derek right in the eyes like he is waiting for him pass out. Derek stares right back, but only because he is in a bit of a trance. “Derek.”

     “That’s great, you are doing great Derek, what the hell brings you backstage into the storage room? You’re not here to like yell at me for knocking your drink over? Cause it was a total accident. Why would you save the guy who knocked your drink over? Wait how did you get back here at all? This is like an employees only zone or something, I am pretty sure. Why are you here?” Stiles says the last question like it’s the only one he actually wanted to ask. Derek may have just come back to consciousness but Stiles has a way of making Derek feel dizzy all over again with his incoherent rattling and ridiculous flailing hands. It is now, that Derek realizes Stiles is squatting over him. He makes a grunt to let Stiles know he is in the way of him getting up. Stiles moves immediately and offers a hand to Derek. Derek takes it and flings upwards. Now that they are both standing. Derek can see that Stiles is an inch or two shorter than him. Making Stiles look up into his eyes with how close they are. Stiles seems to let out a shaky breath and bow his head and back away.

     “My sister, Laura, and I own this place.” Stiles’ eyes snap up to him, searching for some kind of truth in Derek’s face. Decides to believe Derek and lets out a big sigh. “If your name is Derek and your sister is Laura Hale, that would make you Derek Hale, which now is all making sense.” Stiles lets out a stressed breathe and takes steps towards all the boxes that had fallen, sifting through them and stopping to look back at Derek who has only been able to stare at the clumsy guy. “I’m not suppose to talk to you. Or that’s what Lydia said. She didn’t specifically tell me not to talk to you but she mentioned the clause in the sign-up form that says performers are not to approach you. Which I did sign today meaning that night it wasn’t technically against the rules but I knew the rule ever since Lydia got hired. Something about being in awe of your sister because how well she wielded her authority. If I had known it was you I wouldn’t have bothered you. Just my luck I decide to grow a pair on someone not only completely out my league but also legally restricted to talk to me. Although I will say that I made the conscious decision to not let looks, however godly they may seem, deter me from talking to people. And by conscious decision I mean Lydia arranged for all my friends to sit me down and tell me how my low self-esteem is useless and that I am only molding to society’s expectations of my life. Which when you think about it, is a complete insult. But be it not within my power to deny Lydia.”

     Derek has to turn on his blank face to avoid his emotions showing, cause right now Stiles has just described his almost exact situation, in ways. He chooses “You too.” as response leaving Stiles in the dark about how Lydia took one right out of the Laura’s Evil Book Of Micromanaging with the whole intervention thing. Stiles looks as though he has to tear his eyes away from Derek’s as they made a slight connection for a split-second, bonding over having a controlling woman in their life. Which is ironic because Derek is sure Stiles is at least bisexual if not gay like himself. Derek decides to throw Stiles a bone. “If you refer back to the sign-up form you will see that it states you are not to approach me but that I am to approach you, if there is to be any contact. I’d say throwing myself on top of you is an excessive way to approach someone.” Derek didn’t miss the way Stiles eyes rapidly blinked as if stunned Derek had even talked.

     “Yeah?” Stiles asked, trying to get some indication from Derek that he wasn’t a nuisance in continuing to talk to him. Derek complied, “Look, that clause is only there because I absolutely hate social climbers and wannabees grinding up on me, invading my space while I try to watch what they consider to be their competition. Which is sort of redundant since, one, they are only annoying me and, two, there is no competition for certain prize. I am just looking for individuals.” Stiles nodded along as though he completely understood and winced while he said “So my advances on you were kind of the last thing you wanted. Well I can’t say I haven’t been categorized as annoying before.” Derek really wants to point out the irony of this whole situation. All Derek desires is to be socially capable of accepting Stiles ‘advances.’ Even now he cannot bring himself to be direct about what he wants.

     Before Derek could pressure himself into telling Stiles that his flirting was welcomed Stiles put on this professional face and said “Well, I think I should let you know that I won’t bother you from now on. And I suspect that we will run into each other again since I was just hired on as stagehand. Right now I have to get this cord back to Lydia immediately or risk getting neutered.” With that Stiles walk through curtains with a rather large cord bundle over his shoulder that Derek didn’t even notice before. Once again Derek was left alone, over thinking the entire exchange between him and Stiles.

* * *

     Derek walked up the stairs to Laura’s office wondering how she convinced him to get up this early and whether or not Stiles meant he would talk to him again. “I won’t bother you’ and ‘I suspect that we will run into each other again’ are two conflicting lines. He opens the door to Laura staring at a computer screen and his uncle, Peter, sitting on her desk.  “Ah, the prodigal nephew returns. Just in time Derek, my sweet. Laura was telling me all about the recent lecture you gave to an act two nights ago. Said you were so belligerent that instead of crying this time they were confused. Who can say I didn’t raise you well?” Laura looks away from the screen to give Derek a sly smile.

     “Really not in the mood. Laura what is it that you needed from me?” Derek’s patience seemed to dissipate as soon as Peter starts to open his mouth.

     “Well, Derek. As co-owner of this fine establishment, there are certain obligations such as taking an active interest in the place. I do end up making ninety-nine percent of the decisions around here but unfortunately, legally speaking I cannot hired anyone on to the payroll without your doctrinal consent. So please get you scowling ass over here and put your name on this piece of paper.” Laura pushed forward the paper. Derek trusts Laura (when it comes to business, anything else is out the door.) so usually he would just scribble and dashes down towards the bar to talk to Isaac, but he catches sight of the name on the employment form. The first name isn’t something Derek wouldn't even attempt to pronounce but the last name is what caught his eye. Stilinski. Kinda like Stiles. Who just mentioned being hired here. Which duh! Derek puts the pen down.

     “Who’s this Stilinski?” If he was gonna come down all way for this then he should at least make it worth his time. Opportunity to find out more about Stiles. Laura gives Derek skeptical eye.

     “He goes by Stiles. Lydia recommended him.” Derek saves the ‘no shit Sherlock’ comment because the more Laura is in the dark the better for his own sanity.

     “What is he? Some kind of waiter? Stagehand?” He already knew  but wanted more information so he needed to seem like he had absolutely no idea who Stiles was.

     “Actually he is our new sound guy. Suppose to be pretty good. Lydia decided to tell him that he was a stagehand and then promote him in a week or so. She said something about him needing the confidence boost. If he didn’t seem healthy I’d think he was a tweeker, with all the twitching. Plus he said the word penis four times in the first conversation with me. Odd right?”

     Laura seemed to be watching Derek intently for a response. Peter just laughed. “I like him already.” Derek just picked up the pen and signed his name. He didn’t like when Laura looked at him that way. Bad things happen when Laura gave him that look. “Is that all?” Laura gave a nod, still looking at Derek. He bolted right out the door.

     Derek bee-lined to the bar. When he reached his destination he saw that his usual bar stool was taken by none other than Stiles the new hire. The speakers onstage were producing something low, sounding a hell of a lot like Etta James. As Derek drew closer to the bar it became clear that it was in fact Etta James singing A Sunday Kind of Love. Odd. Stiles glanced in his direction and instantly stood up. Derek gestured to the seat behind Stiles and the guy jumped out of the way. Derek was amused by Stiles obvious nervousness but didn't like that it was his presence causing it. “That’s my usual seat.” He pointed out so Stiles didn’t think he was just trying to seem entitled.

     “Oh, sorry. It’s just that I was trying to get a feel for the acoustics of this place and well there this thing which is more of a chance occurrence, where the design of building shapes the sound. So theoretically speaking every spot in the room is like a different experience. Well then there is rumored sweet spots where the sound is like more clear or has a different effect. Well I was just checking it out and well I don’t know if you noticed but that stool just so happens to be in the perfect position to hear the bass speakers.” Stiles had a way of talking like he was regretting every word that came out of his mouth.

     “I noticed.” Derek had spent day after they bought the place listening to Led Zeppelin while revolving around to find the sweet spots Stiles was referring to.

     “Of course you noticed. I mean you’re sorta paid to be an ear- I mean not to say that is all you are useful for-just that you would have obviously picked up on the difference by now.” Again Stiles winced at his own words. Derek wasn’t offended at all, more sympathetic towards Stiles and all the trouble he must have suffered from because of that mouth. In another moment of sympathy, which Derek, surprising himself, was more than willing to give to Stiles, he decided to ignore Stiles comment and change the subject.

     Derek pointed toward the ceiling above them, “If you look up you can see the curve in corner and that the bar has a lowered ceiling.” Stiles’ eyes followed Derek’s directions, mouth opened. Derek couldn’t take his eyes off Stiles’ neck as exposed as it was. He did not like the urge he felt to shove his face forward into the pale skin and inhale, but Derek is a pro at suppressing urges. Stiles is oblivious to the ways in which he is testing Derek’s professionalism. “If you take a seat I’ll show you a little secret.” Stiles looks completely confused but did as Derek told him to do.

     Making his way behind the bar, Derek called for any stagehand to turn up the volume. Stiles and Derek were staring at each other. Derek with a smirk and Stiles looking wary. The music was turned up so loud that when Derek moved his lips, Stiles couldn’t make out what he was saying. In an attempt to hear him, Stiles leaned forward over the bar counter, asking ‘What was that?”

     “I said if you lean forward you will be able to hear what I am saying.” Derek gave a smile. Stiles looked extremely impressed and like a child would, began lean forward and backward to test the effect. Stiles was satisfied with his findings leaning forward once more to ask, “How is this possible?”

     “The curve in the ceiling lets the sound bounce fluently to the bar stools, but the bar is place under this little cut out so that when ordering a drink, the customer and bartender can understand each other perfectly. If you are onstage you won’t be able to hear anyone ordering either. It was designed so that the performance wouldn’t be disturbed but the audience could still get a refill. It’s one of my favorite features of this place. Why I decided to buy it actually.”

     Derek felt his face get hot. He had no idea what made him show Stiles this. It’s sort of a secret that only him and Isaac know of. He motioned for the stagehand, some ginger name Greenburg, to lower the volume.

     Stiles was looking at Derek with something he couldn’t understand. Right before he was going to say something to Derek, Lydia yelled for his help. He turned towards her direction then looked back to Derek. “Thanks. You...Uh...for ah..” He gestured toward the ceiling. Why he couldn’t articulate what he was thinking, Derek had no clue but he now knows that he is a big fan of a flustered Stiles. Stiles meets his eyes, smiles like an idiot and takes off. Derek is left for the third time with confusion all centered around Stiles. It certainly doesn’t help that when he looks up to Laura’s office that is suspended above the right of the stage, within view of the bar, that the shutters are shut the instant his eyes meet them. He is screwed. So screwed.

 

 


	3. Just For Tonight

     Stiles is having trouble with the key to his apartment. For some reason it’s not fitting in the keyhole. The shiney new keyhole. This bad, very bad.

     He sees a piece of paper stuck in the door jam. When he unfolds the paper the word Evicted is instantly noticeable. Well fuck. Course he knew this was coming. The eviction was months in the making. He just didn’t think it would happen this month. Obviously there is only one thing to do. Find a way to break in so he can get his charger and charge his phone, that shattered only this morning. He wasn’t really sure how he broke it. More than likely when he was tackled by his inhumanly sexy new boss, that was trying to save him from a stack of boxes he caused to fall. Not one of his finer moments. Nor is the current one where he is stuck halfway through his window. Like actually stuck. Lucky for him (because at times like these it’s important to count your blessings and look for a positive)  the charger is plugged in right below said window. He may have to wait for ten minutes for the phone to have enough power to call Scott but he takes this time to observe just how shitty this apartment really is. After hanging up on Scott, Stiles is sure that this situation is a blessing in disguise. Cockroaches shouldn’t be pets and water leaking from the ceiling onto your face should most definitely not be your alarm clock in the morning. (Then again the fact that Ms. Blake from the apartment above gets into the shower at the exact time Stiles needs to get up is some sort of miracle.) Yeah, always see the bright side of things.

     Speaking of ceilings and sexy everyday heroes, what the fuck is Derek Hale? No really, like is he even human? Stiles is pretty sure someone has finally answered his prayers. He may not be attracted to people purely based off looks but Derek is somehow the exception. Literally everything Stiles desires wrapped in a bow. On top of that, he has superhero tendencies, obvious great music taste and has yet to tell stiles to leave him alone. That last one is the most important part. With his thoughts stuck on Derek, Stiles forgets he is stuck in his window. Did he mention he lives on the second floor. He might start panicing but as if on cue, Scott’s bike comes within earshot. Stiles has never been more proud of Scott’s criminal record than now, because he really needed Scott to pick the apartment lock and hoist him inside before his ass froze off.

     “Dude, I don’t know how you are even alive at this point.” Scott says as they pack up all Stiles’ belongings. “I will never know anyone as danger prone as you.”

     Stiles ignores Scott’s unwarranted comment because he can be as cautious and graceful as a butterfly if he wants to be. “No but this is gonna be good for me. Like I was going to have the rent money by next week, with this job Lydia got me but I needed to get out of this place. Pretty sure the reason I get sick just about every week is because there is mold in the insulation. And now that I have an actual job I can probably get something without water stained walls that looks like a portrait of death himself. I should have seen that as a sign but it just looks too much like a Misfit’s poster.” Scott snorts.

     “Stiles, you could afford much better than this if it wasn’t for the band.” Stiles stiffens up at this. “Scott, can we not? I know that paying for all the equipment, and gas, and well snacks for band practice and like I did just pay for the registration on the Band’s van. It may sound like a waste but it’s an investment. I think the band can actually go somewhere and once we make it big, all the rent and trust fund money I put into this will be worth it.” Stiles felt convinced that was a suitable excuse, but the sigh from Scott told Stiles he didn’t agree in the slightest.

     “Look I have no doubt you got what it takes to make it. And I mean you, as in Stiles Stilinski, not Slow Kids at Play. But I don’t know how you can’t see they are taking advantage of you. None of them pay for anything, none of them have tried to help you with finding venues or spreading flyers and that van is not the ‘Band Van’, it’s Sean’s van!” Stiles decided to busy himself with packing his toiletries after this. It’s hard to argue with someone a reasonable as Scott McCall. Yeah okay, legally the van is Sean’s but the band uses it more than anything and he does feel like the responsibility of the band’s future lies on his shoulders but that’s because he is really good a networking.

     Scott comes into the bathroom with the eyes of a puppy. “I know you have a lot of faith in this new band but I am just trying to look out for you. I don’t like when people take advantage of your goodnature. Sorry for getting all intense over it. Look, Allison is burrowing her dad’s truck to come get the boxes. We will get everything in the morning and put it in the spare bedroom at our apartment. You can stay as long as you want. Stiles…” He touched his shoulder in comfort. “Everything is gonna get better from here on out. I know it. Imma head back to my place. I’ll see ya in the morning. Love you bro.”

     Leave to Scott to see through Stiles insistent optimism. Even Stiles has to admit this was a low. He just dropped out of UCLA last year, lost his job at a radio station, cheated on by his ex, spent all his trust fund money from Grandpapa Stilinski and now he has been evicted. The last year hasn’t been an easy one. But he has been through worse after the loss of his mother.

     It was then, after losing the closest person to him, that Stiles felt there was nothing left to live for. Abandoning his friends and locking himself up from the rest of the world, planning the best way to end it all. That was until he decided to pick his guitar one last time only to find a note at the bottom of the case. It was a note from his mother before he left for Los Angeles to pursue his dream of being a star. Just an inside joke of sorts. They were both fond of the movie Finding Nemo, use to watch over and over again with each other. The note was simple.

_Stiles, I believe in you. If you ever feel like giving up and coming back, just remember to keep swimming._

     Of course his mother was referring to him finding it hard to make it in the city as an aspiring star but to Stiles it was a wake up call. It reminded Stiles of his mother showing up to every talent show he took part in, every coffee shop performance, listening to a new song he learned, always encouraging him, supporting him. How she always pointed out the bright side. Like the time he knocked out his front teeth and she pointed out that meant he was that much closer to getting an adult set before all the other kids. Or when he dropped her birthday cake on the way to take it the table so she could blow out the candles and instead of becoming upset she said very nonchalantly that she started a new diet anyways. Or when they got the news that she only had six months to live and she got excited because that meant they would actually have to go to Hawaii this summer. And they did, infact they traveled as a family around the world. They spent time in Italy and went on a Safari adventure and hiked mountains in Alaska to see the Northern Lights. It was the greatest time of Stiles’ life but eventually his mother got too sick to travel.

     Stiles wasn’t sure where he went after his mother died, but he knew then that his mother would not appreciate any of it. So he snapped back to real life. Went out with Scott and got drunk, poured his heart out to strangers and cried for days. Soon enough his feelings towards his loss changed. He was thankful for even getting the time he had with his mother. Lucky to know her as he did. Lucky to benefit from her love and support. Soon he found a whole new appetite for life. Milking it for everything it’s worth. Having as much fun in the moment as possible. Putting his music first, not concerned with the future because that much was never promised.

     He gives himself this night to sob into his pillow and think about how much it hurt to lose his mother six years ago and how crushing it felt to nineteen year old Stiles to not have that support. He gives himself this night to feel like shit about being evicted, about being alone and getting nowhere with his music career. But he knows all too well that by tomorrow he will have to bring himself together again. Be the Stiles everyone expects him to be. Tonight he allows the pain in. Just tonight.

 

**  
  
**


	4. The Proposition

     Stiles wakes up from a dream that, towards the end, took a total 360. One moment, he is onstage looking out at the crowd with thousands eyes looking right back, a set green eyes stood out amongst the rest, the next he is drowning in the ocean and wiping the water out of his eyes, gasping for air. And that’s exactly how he wakes up. Hand rubbing his eyes, face wet from Ms. Blake turning on her shower upstairs. It takes a second for Stiles’s gears to catch up. As he swings his legs over the side of the bed, yawning and reaches for the bucket he always has on hand to catch to the steady dripping of water from the ceiling.

     A startling realization overcomes him; this is the last time he will be doing this. Last time he will be in this place and that doesn’t just apply to the apartment. He will no longer be stuck scrounging for dollars on the sidewalk by playing his guitar and the only wet dreams he will be having, will include a lot of naked bodies.

     This gives Stiles a little pip in his step as he goes through the motion of last minute packing. By the time Scott and Allison arrive with a truck, Stiles has moved all his belongings to the front room. He doesn’t miss the wary concerned looks Scott shoots him but by the time the truck is loaded, Scott seems to catch on that Stiles is fine. It’s the truth. For once Stiles was fine. By noon all his stuff was unloaded into his new room at Scott’s place. When they brought in the bed, Scott and Stiles hugged and had an all out bromance session. Allison saunters on in, breaking up the embrace, asking if she needed to be worried about Scott sneaking out of their bed and into Stiles at night.

     It made Stiles laugh for the first time that day. It was then that he realized how much tension he was carrying around. Allison came over, sensing the raw emotion in the room and pulled both them into her arms. The sentiment was there and Allison broke off with a comment about packing a bowl, leaving the room.

     “Dude Scott. I know you already know this but ya hit the jackpot with that one.” Scott nods and gives one of his love-sick dreamy sighs that pretty much happens everytime Allison pops up in his head.

     The trio is on the couch passing around a bong when Lydia barges in. She clicks her tongue in disapproval.

     “Just what every employer want to see a new hire getting up to.” Stiles looks like a deer caught in headlights as he glances down at the dinosaur shaped piece in his lap, to the cross-armed redhead standing over the couch behind him. She laughs sadistically and falls over the back of the couch into Stiles’s lap taking the bong from his grip and hits it. Lydia blows the rip in his face with a wide grin.

     “I am so gonna give you so much shit now that you work for me.” Stiles lets out a sigh of relief and rolls his eyes.

      “I don’t even know why I fell for that. I literally get your weed for you.” Everyone has a laugh at Stiles’s expense, which then turns into a ten minute giggle fit. Some how it ends with Scott and Allison making out obscenely. Lydia looks to Stiles.

     “On that note, I guess it’s time for me to get to why I came here. You are having lunch with Laura and I today. I heard about the apartment and thought we could give the good news early.”

     Without any objection, Stiles went into his room and grabbed a hoodie. One of his top priorities at moment was to be as great of a friend to Scott as he can. If that meant making himself sparse so him and Allison could have private sexy time, then so be it. Him and Lydia were out the door within seconds and headed to the nicer part of town where all the celebrity eat-outs were. Lydia parked next to a black camaro Stiles could swear he has seen before. It was Hollywood so nice rides were a dime a dozen but the paw print sticker on the back was what made him think it’s the same one.

     The devilish grin Lydia had made him hot under the collar of his plaid button-up. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious to know what the news was. As they made their way inside the five star restaurant with a beach theme, Lydia gave the name Hale and they were led to a patio table where Laura and, to his surprise, Derek were seated. Derek’s eyes landed on him, they widened. Stiles didn’t like the frown that formed on his face after a few seconds of blatantly staring at him. What Stiles didn’t like even more was the knowing looks Lydia and Laura exchanged. And what Stiles really hated was the moments before the frown formed on Derek’s face, where he had a smile. A genuine smile. One he hasn’t seen on the guy. Which shouldn’t be important to him but it is. He was beyond relieved when he saw that the scowl was directed towards Laura and not himself. Laura was all smiles as she greeted them.

     “Stiles, we were actually just talking about you.” Derek only went a shade redder at this and looked completely confused, like he had no idea what Laura meant by that.

     “Oh yeah, well if you have anything to say about me, say it to my face.” Stiles had no idea what made him say this (nerves?) but it got a laugh from all three of his company. Derek’s laugh was short as if he was trying not to. Stiles shouldered off that detail, instead inwardly cursing himself for feeling comfortable enough to be snarky towards his all so new bosses. Then again, Laura treated him just like Lydia, a little brother, and him and Derek already have a history, however short it may be.

     “Well for starters, we have a proposition for you.” That smile was going to drive Stiles up the wall, what was he missing. “Recently our sound guy, Boyd, was stolen from us, thanks to my dear brother here, by Sonic Room Records. Greenburg just isn’t cutting it, we are having technical difficulties almost every night. Lydia already had you in mind for a replacement and so I thought it best if the past couple of days were a test of sorts. You already passed in my books. Doesn’t hurt that Der-Bear here,” Laura pinched Derek’s cheek. “was just telling me about how you took a liking to our house acoustics. Said you had, what was it Derek? A gifted ear.” Stiles and Derek both blushed and avoided everyone’s eyes, which was too bad for they would have seen the pleased knowing looks Lydia and Laura exchanged yet again.

     “After discussing it with Lydia and now Derek, I am extending you an offer.” Stiles was at the edge of his seat. Laura, with a gleam of mischief in her eye, continued with a condescending tone. “Better yet, let’s have Derek tell you. We just went over the details and he has promised to take more care in the going-ons at the Beacon. This should help him get back into the swing of things.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Derek didn’t have time for a lunch right now. He just finished up a recording for a particular soloist that already has a career but he has a feeling the single they just recorded is gonna be a hit. The high he gets when he sees an artist kill the vocals dissipates the moment his phone rings and Laura’s name pops up on the screen. Of course his presence is required. As he heads into the Hollywood and the tourist traffic thickens, all he can think about is the two o’clock meeting he has at the label’s headquarters. He may have saved the label from public scrutiny and signed all the chart topping performers, but he still had a boss who was a complete hardass.

     Pulling up to the Beach Grass Grill on Sunset boulevard, he searches the patio tables to see if Laura was there yet. Once he spots her, he parks and cuts the engine.  It’s five minutes to noon, their agreed upon meeting time. Derek takes a deep breathe tries to focus on what he wants to say to Laura.

     See, Derek has a bit of a dilemma. With his job, he has always made time for Laura. The thing is, Derek doesn’t have a whole lot of time to spare. So while he may always have time for Laura, family first, he doesn’t have time to help run the business. The problem lies with the fact that you don’t just simply tell Laura that you are stepping back. You must have supportive evidence for doing said act and it must be flawless and irrefutable, otherwise she will make quick to tell you why you are not going through with it.

     So moving forward, he is debating whether he should tell her his five year projection of his career or explain his distaste for the Beacon and what it has become. Both are surely not going to go over well with her. For one, his five year projection involves a lot more work and less personal time and he doesn’t have a solid direction he wants to go but he is sure he can bullshit it. Also, explaining why the business they created together has become a total sellout is sure to earn some hard feelings from his sister. It is not going to be easy but Derek thinks he needs to be more honest with how he feels with at least his sister. Right now he feels a little stretched thin and wary. His drive is gone. He is slipping. So he has decided to refocus and cutting ties with the Beacon seems like a means to getting back on track. Where the tracks go, Derek has no idea.

     Getting out of his Camaro, Derek attempts to not seem guilty walking up to their table. Laura is on the phone, obviously a business call. Her eyes are on him and even though she is completely present in the conversation she is having with the person on the phone, he can see her mind trying to read him. He slouches over and lets the nerves take a hold. Sitting down, eye contact not breaking with his sister’s. She finishes up her call at exactly twelve. Laura has a thing for business etiquette and always stays true to meeting times. She takes a breath and seems not at all excited to get into this conversation. But she smiles and that’s the moment Derek understands what he planned on happening, just wasn’t going to happen.

     “Ten to one, I bet I can guess what you want to say to me.” She was taunting him. Derek knew best to never add words to the fire when Laura felt she had one over you.

     “Since you are gonna be no fun little bro, I will just state it. You want out of the Beacon.” Of course she knew. Derek sorta growls, something him and Laura use to do when they were kids. They had a big backyard with woods. Their favorite game was wolves, where they would chase each other around howling and when they were called in for dinner, they kept up the act by growling at each other over the last piece of steak. The habit stuck and now when they are frustrated with one another, they growl. Unfortunately for Derek, it’s an automatic response, but Laura always makes sure it’s just the two of them when she indulges in the childhood sentiment.

     “Now now Der, do I need to tell you why that’s not happening?” Derek huffs and looks away to the LA urban surrounding. “Der, we have a partnership. Businesses, where a partner leaves, don’t always do so well. I am sure I could manage on my own with some help from Uncle but it be putting me in a tight position. But that’s not why you are staying. In fact you will not only be staying, you are going to take more responsibility in the Beacon.” Derek looks back at her. The fire was lit at this. Like hell he would be putting more time in at the Beacon. He was about to tell her to shove that idea up her ass when Laura continued in forceful voice.

     “Derek. I know. I know what you think of the Beacon and I agree.” That threw Derek off. She agreed? Maybe she thinks she know what Derek thinks about the beacon. He should tell her what he really thinks. He is about to do so but again Laura cuts in. “I completely sold out Der.” Okay so maybe she does know.

     “I sold out, I took everything we created and cashed in on your success and now we have a tourist restaurant with a bunch of shit acts.” Laura let that sink in. Derek let it all catch up before asking, “What are we going to do then?” Laura smiled really bright.

     “I want The Beacon back. I talked to Lydia and although she isn’t excited to retracted her claws from the finely tuned money machine she helped me create, she understands. We want to take out the tables and be more particular about our choice of acts. Honestly, our little venue did just fine before, we weren’t losing money at least. But I am just tired. I am tired of those wannabes and the fucking tourist Der!” She was most certainly being over dramatic but it made Derek laugh a bit at the reactions of the others on the patio. All of which were in fact tourist. Laura didn’t so much as blink at this. “I want the walls to vibrate and everyone to go home, sore as fuck from the moshing. And more importantly I want to see you dance again.” Derek totally goes all red at this. Yeah his sister was being a total cheeseball but she wasn’t wrong. Before, when The Beacon was a raging venue, Derek would go into the crowd and get lost. Crowd surf, drink till moshing wasn’t as intimidating and smoking any joint passed his way despite being the owner of the building and knowing that smoking of any sorts wasn’t allowed inside. He loved being one with the music and the audience. He hasn’t done that in years.

     “So you wanna tell me why you think you should take a step back?” And there it is. She even used the same words Derek was thinking of using. He was feeling lost now.

     “I.. you kinda… but also like… I need to.. like do something… I am not? I am not happy.” Laura’s sympathetic look  only made Derek feel more emotional.

     “Derek, you are right. You are not happy, but The Beacon is not why you are unhappy. Your life is stagnate. You might be doing well and your acts might be taking off but you know as well as I do that it’s the same thing just a different day. Derek this is not what you want to do. You don’t want to be dealing with lawyers and record label pressures and that dickhead boss. You want music. That’s why we are reinstating The Beacon as a venue. Lydia is taking over some management details for me but she has been having trouble with auditions. I was hoping you could start coming in on Wednesdays and sitting in on auditions and coming to the shows. Do what you use to love doing again. And I have it from a reliable source that you will be meeting with Douchelion after this and I want you to give notice for talent scouting. I already know you would never turn your back on your artists so stay on as a producer but tell them you won’t be taking on any new acts. That way you clear up a lot of time and can still be there for your people. Derek I think you this will be good for you.” Derek was digesting the idea and only could nod. Laura let out the breath she was holding, waiting for Derek’s response and laughed. Derek had to smile. He needed a change, a refocus, so what if he had the wrong direction in mind. He liked this idea. It brought him closer to what felt right.

     “Okay enough with the heavy. Can I bring you up to date with where we are at with this transition?” Derek nods, still lost in a different almost optimistic way. “I am finishing out this week because we still have signed contract with some acts but Lydia and I already began giving notices to half the kitchen crew and hired on twice as many cocktail staff. We haven’t taken any new contracts past next Sunday. Thanks to our new sound guy we have the old system back up and running. Stiles has actually made some upgrades, I think you might catch them when you stop by next.” Laura takes a sip of her tea with a sly smile. At the mention of Stiles name, Derek avoids Laura’s eyes. It’s a lost cause. All the feelings he has for Stiles that he isn’t quite sure about are basically handed to Laura on a silver platter. He knows this and Laura knows this. But what they both know they do not speak of. Doesn’t mean Laura won’t seize the opportunity to pick on her little brother.

     “I saw you two at the bar.” She admits with no indiscretion.

     “He was on my stool.” Derek has an instant defense mechanism. Nonchalantly steer the most likely correct assumption towards a place with no emotional attachments.

     “Yeah? Your special spot?” Derek hates when she does this. Acts like he is the cat and she is his owner, dangling a ball of feathers just out his reach. It has taken several years of teenage hatred and a family disaster for Derek to just accept that Laura is gonna be Laura, his meddling older sister. At times like this he just gives in. Laura is the only person he feels comfortable talking about his opinion outside of a recording studio.

     “Yes my stool.”

     “Right. So if I were to tell you that Stiles was evicted last night, according to Lydia, you wouldn’t have any response?” Laura watched Derek’s eyes widen with concern.

     “Does he have a place to stay?” Derek surpassed his put upon disinterest because well… is Stiles okay?

     “Calm down Der-Bear. He moved into his best friend’s apartment. So is there any reason you care so much about this new employee of ours?” Laura sounds way too satisfied with herself. Derek plays with his nails, tries to understand himself, why he does in fact care.

     “He um.... found my secret spot. He has a good ear.” He doesn’t know why but he is smiling like a maniac at the thought of Stiles tapping his foot on his stool at the bar. When he looked up to see Laura’s reaction to this information, she wasn’t even facing him. She was looking towards the doors that open up to the inside of the restaurant. When the doors open and reveal Lydia and Stiles, he feels overwhelmed. And set up. God damn Laura.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

     “Derek.” Laura punches his shoulder. “The promotion.” Blinks out of the temporary shock. Makes eye contact with Stiles and struggles to keep it.

     “Right, so sound guy?” Derek rushed out. He felt oh-so-dumb. Stiles seemed confused. He amended, “Sound technician is the actual title, but yeah, as Laura pointed out. Boyd, the old sound guy, was hired at the record studio I work at. I am sure everyone doesn’t want to hear Lydia cursing up a storm at the staff over the speakers anymore. Also could count as evidence towards the eventual lawsuits filed against these two, for being power raged abusive managers.” Lydia and Laura gave fake uproar of opposition that turned into evil laughter. “Yeah so best we keep her off the air and set up for an actual show. But don’t worry about these two, I will be around a lot more often to oversee certain bits, maybe keep them off your back.” Stiles was elated. Kept asking if they were serious. Then he put a pause on his excitement to ask.

     “Okay this is great. Change in title. Does it come with any bonuses. A dollar increase in wage? Keys to the place? Free drinks at the bar?” Laura lost it. She was cracking up. When she pulled it together she let Stiles know he will actually be on salary instead of wages and yes, keys will be issued to him. The drinks are free as long as he isn’t on the job.

Stiles began on a rant of demands for what he would need to set up. Derek was the only one who had any clue what he was talking about. Perk of working in a recording studio. Laura and Lydia took to having a separate conversation about whether or not the guy three tables over was Bill Murray or not. Derek reassured Stiles all his needs would be covered and agreed upon a new sound board and a few new mics for percussion. Derek was handling this business talk very well considering what was going on in his head.

     Like how entranced he was by Stiles use of hand gestures to describe the setup he wanted. Or how Stiles had to drink three glasses of water because he was talking so much his mouth got dry. Or how Stiles only used a straw to drink said water and he cheek hollowed out like was suc--- Well considering what was going on in his head he was doing marginally better than he expected of himself. He may only be nodding but he was at least not attacking Stiles in public. Which was surprisingly a real possibility.

     Of course, Stiles changed topic from the new position to Derek and his work at the Label. Asking a billion and one yes or no questions (that part Derek was grateful for because wasn’t capable of forming sentences then) about the process of recording. When Stiles made a dash for the restroom, Derek realized he needed to be at the record label in a matter minutes. He told Lydia to tell Stiles that his equipment would arrive by Tuesday and that he was excited to work with him. Laura and Lydia smiled the same content smile, like they just called out ‘check mate.’ Derek was somehow pleased with this situation as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


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